


Silence

by yvnwhore



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Autobiography, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inspired by No Longer Human, Inspired by Novel, Kim Hongjoong-centric, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Power Play, Psychopathic Tendencies, Suicide Attempt, That's a lot of implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:29:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26027257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yvnwhore/pseuds/yvnwhore
Summary: The cynical and empty autobiography of a man who simply was not human, Kim Hongjoong.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kim Hongjoong, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung/Kim Hongjoong, Jeong Yunho/Kim Hongjoong, Kang Yeosang/Kim Hongjoong, Kim Hongjoong/Everyone, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Kim Hongjoong/Song Mingi
Comments: 34
Kudos: 64





	1. Human

**Author's Note:**

> This short story is heavily inspired by No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai. It is quite disturbing, please read the tags for trigger warnings.

It started when I was young. I hadn't been able to make connections with others beyond basic needs. I had no wants and therefore no interest in anyone nor anything. It wasn't noticed until I was eight. When my father passed away. My mother sobbed for days and I simply watched her. I did not understand why she cried. I saw no reason to.

_"He's just gone."_ I told her nonchalantly. That was when I received my first slap to the face. The first of many to follow and much more physical carnage in the future.  
I did not react badly. I simply stared at her after her hand had met my cheek. She hated that. Hated that I would not look away in shame, but rather stare in curiosity and confusion. So she did it again. And she would repeat until I could not stare anymore.

It confused me. Why humans act this way. They are watery and quick to anger. A humans anger is second to none. Not even a grizzly bear. You could play dead in front of a bear and they'd walk away. But if you play dead in front of a human, they'd piss on your corpse and cuss you out. I don't understand the impulsivity. I don't understand the joy in tearing your fellow species apart. In fact, I don't understand joy at all.  
It wasn't until my teenage years that I understood why she'd slapped me so frequently. It was because I was not like her. No I was not like anyone.  
I suppose that is because I am just not human. I, Kim Hongjoong, simply am just not human.

After hearing that I was unlike others, I began to mimic them. At my fathers funeral, I cried. Yet I did not want to. I smiled on my birthday and laughed at jokes, yet I felt no joy.  
I lied to those around me and ended up charming quite a few people. This earned me friends at school and good notes from teachers. My mother was the only one that could not be deceived. She would grow angry when I put on my mask in front of her, but even angrier when I did not.  
It confused me, but I could not care less for the words she spewed. The only thing that was a hindrance was the smacks. I did not appreciate that. However, she cooked and cleaned, and kept me alive. And so I had no other option than to stick around until she'd gotten completely sick of me.

That's exactly what I did. I stayed until the end of high school. She'd kicked me out after then. It was a good thing I knew how to get by.  
I met him on the first day of grade nine. He didn't quite stick out in the crowd. He was awfully quiet while I was terribly loud. That's how my mask was, you see, to get people to like me, I had to be outgoing. But he was not and did not try to be. He wasn't like the others at all.  
He kept to himself and I watched every day as he sat down, filled in his notes, payed attention in class, and then left without a sound nor a glance to anyone else.  
Around the same time, I'd been getting many confessions. Letters in my locker and girls walking up to me in the hallway. I had no interest in these affairs and always declined. I did not like to see their tearful eyes, yet I did not hate it either. I tried to fake compassion and comfort them, but they'd always run away.

And I've no reason to chase if I have no interest anyway.  
I was always open minded when it came to things. I did not understand why certain articles of clothing could not be worn by me. Why I could not wear a skirt or paint my nails the way girls did. The way I would be shamed for wearing makeup. I still don't quite understand it.  
I was very open to many things, and yet I was still surprised to find the next letter.

One day I got a letter from someone else. One that was not a girl, nor had formally met me. It was not in my locker, nor was it given to me directly. Instead, the boy had waited for me to come to class, placed it on my desk in front of me, and then walked away without a sound.  
The timid boy was acting bravely yet cowardly all at once. He offered a soft smile as he placed the letter on my desk and I couldn't help but have my cheeks flush red. I was not smitten, no...I was scared. I thought I could read people quite well, but I'd never expected this boy to place a love letter on my desk in front of me and the entire class.  
This surprise sparked something within me. Something I'd never felt before. As I looked down at the letter, I spotted his name.

Park Seonghwa.

From that day on, I stayed around Seonghwa. We would walk to class together and I would go to his house sometimes. I kept up my facade around him as I did not want to hurt his feelings. Seonghwa was different from everyone else I had met.  
He was compassionate in a way that was not double sided. He loved in a way that did not look for an advantage. He was open minded and accepting of many things. He was not like everyone else who was quick to anger and rash with judgement. He would not get angry if I could not empathize or find joy in certain things and that made me wonder if he knew I was not human.

Typically had I been found out, I would be shaken to the core. However, Seonghwa gave me some feeling of ease and I could not feel fear around him.

I cannot love, but if I could, I know I would love him.

To him, we were in love. To me, he loved me and I liked having him around. It could not go deeper than that for me and I never lied that it did, however he made his own assumptions. I was not bothered by these assumptions. The assumptions that I was madly head over heals for the boy. It helped me blend in more, made me seem human.  
Though at times I doubted that Seonghwa was actually human. He was the least human-like-human I had ever encountered. I'd never seen him angry, nor would he ever raise a hand or his voice. He was polite and it was not fake. He showed love that was deep. It almost made me believe that perhaps I could fall in love with him.

That perhaps because of him, I could experience joy like the rest. But that was a childish fantasy. I was simply not built for such things. I was wired differently in a much more practical way. One that allowed analysis of facts and not the processing of feelings.  
It was a bit of a hindrance from time to time. But nevertheless I was not indifferent towards my own self. I can't quite form an opinion on myself. I suppose I am fine.

Many people have described me as caring, soft, laid back. But I am none of those things. I am quite cold, and I cannot care, but I do appreciate getting positive feedback on my mask.  
One thing I can feel is fear. I feel fear most of the time. In the presence of humans, fear plays in the back of my mind. They are scarier than any wild animal. They are unpredictable and evil in nature; full of greed, lust, and driven by instinct.  
Even lions are more domesticated than humans.

My relationship with Seonghwa did not last long. Only two years before he broke it off. His family had moved and he did not want to have a long distance relationship.  
That was almost a relief to me. Had it continued, I'd have become too lax over a screen and my facade would fall off. I knew something like that would hurt him and I was more than open to breaking up for that reason.

I may not feel much, but I do empathize in some way. Though I must be very close to a person before I actually can. The only such person I had ever empathized at that point was Seonghwa. But as time moved on, I grew to empathize with only six other men.

Six men that I wish I'd never had met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/3k0GViGXM_E


	2. Psyche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW // mentions of past sexual abuse, self harm, and suicide attempts

I never visited Seonghwa. A promise I told him I'd keep. That was just the first time I'd break that promise. The second time was with another boy. He was new to the school. We were in twelfth grade and shared a few of the same classes. His name was Song Mingi.  


He was rambunctious and energetic, always had a smile on his face. But at the same time he was serious and smart; top of the class. Getting close to him was good for grades. So I did exactly that.  
We were friends before he fell for me. An unfortunate event that neither of us could control. I accepted his feelings and like Seonghwa, we made a connection. When this started, Mingi changed. Or perhaps he was always that way.

He was no longer energetic and happy go lucky. I didn't mind. I assumed his happiness was all a facade. He'd never told me outright, but I could tell that he wasn't mentally healthy. Not like me, rather he felt too much.  
I went to his house a few times to study, and that's when I would notice his mask fall off. He stopped smiling and he took on a blank expression. We would speak of things philosophical and he would dissociate while speaking.  
I would listen as his rants about the meaning of life would turn into rants about the natural evil of man. I agreed with his points, but our feelings on the subject stemmed from two different reasons. I was not human, I hated humans for being different. Mingi was human. He hated himself for being human.

I eventually found out that it was not just the self loathing that made Mingi hate humans. He was damaged, as he described it.  
_"Damaged goods."_ He'd told me with a cynical laugh. Women scared him, and for good reason. The only ones he'd grown up with had violated him in a way you never violate any human, especially a child.   
For the first time, I felt rage. Hearing it made me sick. It made me disgusted.

One day, I came over after school so we could study. The room was a bit hotter than usual, so Mingi took off his school sweater. That's when I saw his arms. He didn't intend for me to see them and even began to cry when I'd touched them.  
I was intrigued to see that a human could do that to themselves when they were in such a horrible state of mind. He said it made him feel less numb. I was not scared to see it. I was not shocked and I did not question it as much as I wanted to.  
And that's when he scared me.

He reminded me of my mother. Said the same thing as her, word for word.  
_"You're not like other people."_  
He'd peeled back my mask. I then realized that normal people do not react to self mutilation the way I had. Normal people were disturbed by it where I was interested. I left immediately after.

What if he told people? That I was not human. I wouldn't be able to stay at school had that happened. So I distanced myself. I did not sit next to him in class. I did not go over to his house after school anymore. I did not even look at him in the hallway.  
That's when he cornered me. He'd stopped me after school and forced me to speak with him.  
_"If you can't feel anything, then_ _ **how**_ _are you so afraid?"_ He'd asked me. I, for once, was silent. I could not answer that question. I did not have the answer. The answer as to why the only human thing I felt was fear.  
So I told him simply. That I am not human and humans scare me.

Humans think they are far from primal when that's not even true. Humans are over taken by instinct in a world that is unnatural to them. And that brings out their worst aspects.   
Greed and lust are shamed and so they find ways to hide them, ways to lie better, ways to get what they want in secret. But instinct is by far the most terrifying thing that humans possess.  
After he took off my mask, he told me to stop putting it on around him. He said that neither of us had to lie if we already knew who we were. So we didn't. We took off our masks for good and stopped lying.   
That's when he became disinterested in me. I did not pretend anymore that I was in love. I began to understand that the truth was not what he wanted and so again, I distanced myself.

That's one of the biggest flaws in humans. They idealize the truth, and they say that it's what they want. But when they get it, they are disappointed, disgusted, appalled. They don't want the truth, they want fantasy.  
So it's my job to entertain that fantasy. To give them the idealized version of me. That way, I am accepted. That way, I am liked. That way, I can hide.

The last I'd heard from Mingi was over the phone. He sounded horrible. His voice was panicked and his words blended together with the speed he'd forced them out of his lips.  
From that night, I remember three frantic words that he'd spoken to me.  
_"I need help."_  
I did not want to go there myself and I knew that had I gone there anyway, Mingi would have died. I'm not one to be able to talk people out of decisions, so hearing the decision Mingi wanted to make, I was not about to take responsibility for that.  
So I called the authorities. He was hospitalized, in critical condition. They called me and updated me on his condition as I was the one to inform them first.  
A month later, he was still in the psych ward. He called me from the hospital and I promised him to visit once the semester was over.

I cannot keep promises.


	3. Lust

I finished high school with good grades and moved onto college. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, as I have no passions, so I took classes that seemed interesting. One that I genuinely enjoyed was fashion. I liked to make things out of nothing. I liked to design something on paper and then make it into something tangible. I enjoyed sewing it together in silence and peace and watching it all fall into place.  
It seemed like the least human thing to do as it required patience. Most people would take breaks in between, too bored with the activity to continue the rest of the day. I, on the other hand, would sit there and finish my piece in one day. If I were to ever take a break, it was for necessities, such as needing to eat, use the bathroom, or sleep.  
I liked speaking to my needle and thread much more than humans. I spoke into existence pieces of clothing and entertained myself by telling stories to the fabrics.  
 _"Blue eyes would bring out your flare."_ That's the kind of things I would speak to the clothes.

No one wore them but me, and I would rarely wear them at all. I liked to see them on a mannequin, displayed like a piece of art. That was until I met a dancer.  
His name was Wooyoung. He was taking courses at the college as well for dance. What kind of dance, I did not know until he invited me to a dress rehearsal. It was contemporary.   
I was taken away by the way he moved. The control he had over his body, the way he flowed like a leaf in the wind, it was amazing.   
One thing I noticed was that their clothes were stiff. They hindered his movement and took away from the performance. So I began studying clothes and patterns similar to the outfit he had worn. I designed one like his and fixed the mistakes to allow it to flow with the body, rather than behind it.

I had no intention of sharing my design with anyone, but that plan was failed when Wooyoung spotted it within my notebook while we were together one day. He liked it and asked me to see the whole thing, and so I showed him. He had me put it on for him and I demonstrated the differences between his cheap costume and my custom one.  
That's when my works became functional rather than for show. Wooyoung wanted a copy and so I made one for a humble price. He loved it so much he'd thrown away the costume he received for the production and wore my version on stage instead.  
From there, I built a clientele. The other dancers requested similar outfits and my prices rose with the business. Wooyoung and I celebrated his production and my new business from home. It wasn't a business to me, more of a hobby that brought in some pocket money.  
The night we celebrated was the night I met his close friend, San. I say close friend, but it was obvious to me that friends was not the arrangement they'd had. Yes, they were friends, but they were too close for comfort of most people.  
I may not be good with friendship, but I do know, from observing, what exactly a friendship is. I also know what is more than that. This was more than that but less than a serious relationship at the same time.

I began to understand more in that night as I got a taste of their relationship. We went to their dorm, red faced and drunk, intending to watch a movie and pass out on the floor, when they got too close on the couch. I remember watching the two grind up against each other like animals in heat.  
This was a demonstration of pure instinct.  
I was intrigued. Yes, I had relations like this before with previous men, but I'd never seen one so open. I watched with intent before San asked if I wanted to join. I didn't see why not. It was interesting to me so I wanted to dip my toes into the water.  
That's what I say, but instead of dipping my toes, I fell head first into the pool and almost drowned.

It was an interesting dynamic. The two were practicing something I had never heard of before. They called it power play. No matter what, Wooyoung liked to have the power, but San liked to be both submissive and dominant. He called himself a switch. I didn't know what I'd like, so they let me watch them at first.  
I decided later that I'd liked being submissive. It gave me a break from being in control. Being dominant took too much work. Too much mental capacity that I didn't want to use for mere pleasure. I simply wanted to lay down and be praised and that's what Wooyoung and San did for me.

Something that was more interesting than their sexual play to me, was a non sexual habit that San had after scenes. He would go from one headspace right into another, becoming mentally childlike. I'd never heard of something like that before and it was strange to see for the first time, but I became accustomed to it.  
Whether submissive or dominant, he would fall into the headspace and need a lot of care. For some reason, I had no quarrels about giving him this care. In fact, I actually liked taking care of San in this state. I suppose it made me feel important to have someone rely on me. Or perhaps it was fraternal instinct.  
I've no idea what it was, but I can never experience it again and I am sure of that.

The three of us became close within a few months. To me, there was a useful exchange within the relationship. San and Wooyoung wanted love. I could provide that love, no matter how fake. I wanted sex and to have someone rely on me the way San did. It was symbiotic in my eyes.  
By the second year of college, we were living in the same dorm. My business was slowly declining, but I had enough money saved up, and so I didn't mind. It gave me time to make pieces of my own for myself.   
Wooyoung, on the other hand, was training a lot more. Between his training and other classes, he had a part time job at the mall. He had at least ten hours off everyday, including his sleep schedule.  
This gave me and San more time to become close. He was working full-time at a floristry co-op and would come home with bouquets he'd arranged for Wooyoung and I. I found inspiration in the flowers he'd brought and began using them in my designs.

San loved the designs and I'd even made him a jacket with his favourite flowers. It had handmade patches of pink and yellow alstroemeria, white jasmine, and red heather flowers lining the sleeves.  
He wore the jacket everywhere he went and rarely took it off.  
I wish he had taken it off.  
Then I'd have had something to hold onto. Then the jacket would have stayed clean. Then he could have at least been buried in it. But instead, he'd gone out in an ice storm after forgetting to lock up the flower shop he'd worked at.  
The very thing he loved was what got him killed.   
His car had reared off the road while trying to avoid another one.

To me, Wooyoung's reaction to the news was irrational. I could not understand it. It reminded me of my mother. The anger, the sadness, the fear of loss. I did not react the same way, and his anger turned to me.  
I had never been so afraid of humans in my life than I had in that moment. I experienced pure rage and pure hatred directed towards me. I'd felt like prey to a hungry lion.

He asked how I could react in such a way to someone so important to me being taken away.  
For the second time in my life, I was silent.   
I did not know why I could not react the same way. I did not understand why I lacked the ability to grieve.  
I was kicked out. I was denied access to his funeral. I was cut off from Wooyoung.

And I moved on.


	4. Super-ego

I had so many questions about myself. Ones that led to no answers. I found my answers in momentary pleasures and drowned away the questions with drink. I felt no sadness towards San's death, though I did feel a strange emptiness. I felt physically cold to think of him. Some weird feeling that left me feeling more confused than I had before.  
Perhaps it was the fact that I should be grieving. That I should be crying. But instead, it only felt awkward to me. To think that I knew someone so well and then suddenly they didn't exist anymore.  
I'd stopped designing clothes for my own peace and instead just did so for school purposes. I frequented one specific bar in town on my off days.

That's where I met the violinist.

I had visited the bar so often, everyone knew my name. All except for one. He was new to the area and knew none of the regulars, but slowly became one himself.  
His name was Kang Yeosang.  
He drowned out his questions like me and we tried to answer each other's weekly. Every Friday we'd sit at the bar, in the same seats like they were reserved and we spoke. We spoke of our questions and we'd answer them for each other. He was one who fancied the philosophical, enjoyed taking jabs at society and pondering the existential matters of daily life.  
In that sense, he was similar to me. He questioned humans and questioned their nature in a similar fashion as mine. The only difference was that he had an opinion from the inside. My only perspective was from the outside.

He'd mentioned to me he was a violinist. That was interesting to me. I've always liked the arts, especially music. Music helped me feel through my ears. The only times I'd truly ever cried or felt joy was through listening to music.  
So I did not turn his offer down when he asked me to attend a concert. The venue was much more extravagant than I'd expected and much more people had turned up to see him play I'd thought.  
His playing was impeccable. I'd never felt so much emotion before.  
After the concert, we'd gotten together for some drinks at his apartment. Our instinct kicked in and we fell into lust. I did not leave his apartment the next morning until he woke up. Unlike all the others I had hooked up with for one night of simple pleasures, I wanted more.  
From then on, I attended every one of his concerts and in turn he would show up at the bar every Friday and we'd chat.

Eventually, he'd fallen for me. I wanted to hear his music more, so I did not refuse his request. I was not in love with him, but I was most definitely in love with his music.  
I began designing again, making clothes for Yeosang to wear on stage. Ones that expressed the feelings within his music that would flow with his arms. I never put flowers on them, however. Yeosang loved flowers, but I could only refuse to meet that simple request. Flowers filled me with a sense of dread. A sense of disgust in myself.

So I used stars for the patterns instead. They matched him much better than flowers anyway. They would sparkle under the stage lights and would bring meaning to his music that sounded like a question to the universe.  
My clientele once again built up after Yeosang had mentioned my name when asked about the clothing. I decided to build a website for it so I could receive orders properly. I did everything at request. But I always denied flowers. Especially alstroemeria.

Yeosang and I did not live together, but we might as well have. I was either always at his apartment, or he was at my dorm. He would practice his music while I sewed and I noticed that every piece I'd made while he played would look far more beautiful than the rest.  
Eventually, I moved into his apartment and I got to experience his music much more often. For once, I felt human.

Yeosang began complaining of back and shoulder pain, which ended us up at the bar more often than Fridays. He began to practice more often as he noticed something wrong with one of his arms. With the pain came sour notes and with that, followed frustration. The frustration brought on thirst and we'd sit in the living room and drink until we blacked out.  
One day, Yeosang found a bump on his arm which held the bow. He'd gone to the doctor and came back to me an hour later with tears in his eyes. He said it was only temporary, that he couldn't play anymore, but it could evolve into more issues.  
He drank almost every day and the alcoholism was contagious. He'd offer me a drink and I couldn't turn it down. My clothing orders became harder to complete as I slept most of the time and had no inspiration nor motivation to complete them.

After a few months, Yeosang visited the doctor again. He came back and picked up his violin without saying a word to me. I expected him to play a song, smile and tell me he was alright. I watched as he silently grabbed it by the handle with shaking hands and smashed it into the wall before throwing it off of the balcony of the apartment.  
_"She said I have severe tendonitis."_ Yeosang told me. His voice was full of fear and anger. _"If I continue... I'll fuck up my arm so bad I won't be able to pick anything up again."_

I felt something within myself in that moment. I believe that was what sadness was. It kind of hurt. I'd never be able to hear his music again. I'd never be able to feel anything again.  
I left him soon after. If I could not listen to his music, then I did not want to be with him. Humans would call that selfish, but it is natural to me.  
Perhaps I am selfish, but that would make me human. I have no greed. I have no desire for possession, material or otherwise.

Without his music, I felt empty again.


	5. Ego

After college, I kept my website open. That was all I had amounted to. That, and a part time job at a grocery store. The website brought in good money and the grocery store brought in pocket money for Friday nights at the bar. A new bar this time.  
I'd moved after graduating, far away from the town where I'd felt deeply. Far away from the town that felt strangely empty.  
All that town reminded me of was things I tried to forget. I couldn't risk seeing the being reminded of the shameful years I'd spent there. Every flower shop reminded me of a man I'd wanted to forget. Every bar reminded me of the music that made me feel human. Everything reminded me of the rage I had witnessed.  
It's strange how small things can bother the brain so greatly. Seeing something vaguely reminiscent may dig up a long forgotten memory very easily.  
I bumped into a man who seemed familiar while I was working. His eyes sparked one of those long forgotten memories within me; something I'd buried deep. When he spoke, the memory came to light.

A boy who I had lived next to. My only friend ever. Choi Jongho. He was younger than me, yes, but that didn't stop our mother's from forcing us to get along. We did get along, quite well actually.  
Jongho always wanted to go on adventures through the forests at the parks and I wanted to study the animals there. We'd spent hours in those forests, every day, feeding the squirrels and catching bugs.  
It carried on until Jongho moved away. As young as we were, we had no way to stay in contact, and so we didn't. I never thought I'd see him again, but there he was, standing right in front of me with a grocery basket in his hand.  
Jongho was still in college. He was taking a law course, something I hadn't expected from him. It wasn't just that, however, he'd gotten in with a scholarship for basketball and was playing in college.

Every now and then, his team would throw parties and Jongho decided to invite me. I hated parties. I hated humans, but I liked to drink, so I went. Both of us had gotten ridiculously drunk and stayed at his house after everyone else had left.  
We caught up with each other over a bottle of gin and spoke until the sun began to rise. Jongho made a fuss over me, saying I needed to sleep so I could work, but I had the weekend off. Either way, he made me drink plenty of water and then allowed me to sleep in his room with him.  
This became a common thing. We would drink and then he'd take care of me. I liked it. I liked being fussed over and taken care of. I supposed this was what San felt like when he went into headspace  
It was nice to be taken care of.

I found myself drinking to excess in the presence of Jongho, just to receive that care. He would pinch my red cheeks like an aunt at a reunion and tell me I needed a cup of water. I would push it and request for tea, and he would have it ready in a minute.  
One night, he decided to drink as much as me and we ended up getting carried away. I'd gotten sick, so Jongho helped me into the shower. He gotten dragged in there with me, unable to stand on my own.  
And instinct took over.

Jongho didn't want to talk about it the next day. Instead, he used the excuse of a hangover to get me to leave the house. When I questioned him, he told me that we should forget it had ever happened.  
So I tried to. I did not care that he wanted to forget it. He still invited me to his place, and we still lost our minds in gin together. But Jongho began to change.  
He would sit far away from me. He would no longer make a fuss over me. He would no longer make me a cup of tea. This was a bit disappointing, but I got by.  
Eventually I asked Jongho why he had been acting like that. He tried to avoid the question, but I knew how to get the answer. Perhaps it was cruel to human standards, but I wanted an answer. I wanted to know directly if this was going anywhere. So I grilled him until he'd caved in and he'd told me he was straight.  
He almost lies better than me. I did not believe one word of it. He wanted to be straight. But he wasn't. Not with the way he looked at me. Not with the way he moaned my name that night. No. Jongho was not straight. Bisexual maybe, but he was not straight.

I never understood that either. Why humans would try to fool themselves to fit into standards. They would become contortionists to fit into a box that was far too big for them. Something they did not need to fit into. They made labels for themselves where labels did not apply and where labels did not need to be used.  
They lied to each other for acceptance. Something I never craved. I lied to fit in, yes, but I did not care to fit in. I cared to live a life without discomfort. So I lied to live comfortably with humans.  
Jongho, on the other hand, lied to comfort himself. He lied out of fear of being something else. He lied so other people could be comfortable.  
I did not poke fun at his thoughts of being straight, as much as I wanted to. I was not so cruel as to chastise a confused man. I had been in a confused state such as his before, and though I do not care for people taking the piss out of me, I know that humans do.

After that, he stopped shopping in the store that I worked at. He stopped inviting me over. Yet he still answered my calls. He did not try to avoid me when I reached out, yet he never reached out to me. I began to feel something like disappointment.  
Was he that confused that he couldn't even look at me anymore? Perhaps he was. Or perhaps he just didn't like me anymore. Whatever it was, I never knew.  
But it was bad enough for him to block my number.

When I'd found that out, I didn't just feel disappointed. I felt something deeper than that. The same emptiness I'd felt after San had died. The same fear I'd felt while Wooyoung shouted at me. The same dread I'd felt when Mingi took off my mask.  
It was unsettling. To feel anything. I was so used to only being able to experience physical anxiety, yet I felt the need to pace my apartment.  
I felt the need to compulsively clean and the need to... cry. I didn't. Well, I couldn't. I can only do that as a fad. Real tears do not come easily to me. I don't think I have ever genuinely cried.

But I know that I wanted to.


	6. Id

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW // mentions of sexual assault and suicide  
> 

I truly hate human instinct. It is by far the most sinful aspect of humans. Instinct can torture. Instinct can kill. When humans give into their barbaric instincts, they no longer become what their society deems a person.

Several times in my life, I had witnessed human instinct. However, I had never witnessed instinct that killed another man. I never thought I would.  
A few years after Jongho had disappeared, I began to get my shit together. I worked harder than ever on my orders. I stopped drinking to excess and I went back to school after saving enough money from orders.  
I took a course in computer sciences, the absolute bare minimum amount needed to get an office job. The most human thing possible. I passed the course with flying colours and landed myself a bleak nine to five job in a call center. Yes, a call center. How human like.

There, I met a man who went by the name Jeong Yunho. He was in the booth next to me. We worked with the same patterns, mine with a few differences. He always finished his work in one sitting, the same as I, and never spoke in between it. On his lunch break, he would go out for a fifteen minute break and come back smelling like smoke.  
Then he would get right back to work.  
I, on the other hand, would work without any breaks until lunch. I did not eat during lunch, I was far too exhausted. I worked on my orders at home the same way, working far into the night, usually falling asleep at three. Lunch was my only break, so I would nap for an hour, wake up and start working again without interruptions.  
Our work patterns forced us to stay after hours sometimes after taking on too much work. In those hours, we would chat. With few people left in the office, we spoke freely.  
As it turned out, we were both very on edge with the work loads. That's when we made a bit of as agreement.  
The two of us would work overtime on purpose just to sneak out to the bathroom together to relieve some stress. Other than that, our connection was shallow. To me, he was just a simple work acquaintance with benefits.

The meetings in the bathroom became more often as weeks went by. Eventually, we stopped working overtime and I invited him over.  
It was much easier to relieve stress when you weren't in a cramped cubicle. Yunho began to stay nights, and sometimes I would stay nights at his place. He took care of me the way Jongho used to; fussing over me after sex and making me tea.  
It felt easier to finish my work and get a nice rest whenever Yunho was over. He would speak to me while I sewed and I would say nothing back, I just listened. The sound of his voice while I concentrated on the needles gave me some sort of peace.  
Like Seonghwa, Yunho didn't feel human. He felt too kind to be a human. He was soft and warm in a way that was not artificial.

I began to feel more comfortable at work and no longer needed my lunch break naps. Yunho, however, took longer times outside and he smelled more often of tobacco. It was as if we had switched places. I invited him over more often, and he eventually stayed for a few days.  
I began speaking to him while I worked, and he listened and watched my designs unfold onto fabric. I found peace in both situations, able to focus on simple things with a clear mind.  
At some point, Yunho moved in. Along with him, he brought a cat. I wasn't particularly fond of animals, though I had no aversions to them either. This cat however, I came to like.

The cat, Soseki, his name was, would sit in my windowsill and watch me sew. I became inspired by Soseki and created designs with cats. They sold surprisingly well.  
Yunho was very close to Soseki. The cat followed him around everywhere, never taking an eye off of him. Yunho had trained the cat to give headbutts to his lips like a kiss on the forehead, and the cat spoke to him when he spoke. Every now and then I would hear Yunho think aloud and the cat would meow.  
Work at the office seemed to be slowing down a bit. That, or I had become accustomed to the workload. It seemed this way for Yunho as well. The two of us were both very comfortable living together and with our work.  
Though we were not dating, we did similar things that couples did. We had sex, slept in the same bed, we had dinner together, we kissed. All in all, there was a lot of instinct disguised as intimacy between us.

It was all very peaceful and comfortable until a year passed. Yunho began acting strange. He seemed nervous, scared. He reminded me of myself. The way I had become when I felt fear. He was demonstrating that to me. He paced, pouted, and pondered similar thoughts to mine, bringing them up in conversation.  
I had pricked myself with my needle when he suddenly said something. I was not shocked. I was not surprised. I was scared. The same fear I'd felt after being found out by Mingi.  
_"I can't lie anymore, Hongjoong."_ He'd told me. He'd then described himself to me what I had always described of myself. We were similar but not the same. Where I could only feel fear, anger, and tinges of sadness, he could feel minor bits of joy and love. He felt fear as well, but only on a minor level.  
He'd confessed all of this to me while staring at the design on my mannequin, refusing to look me in the eye. After that, he simply turned over and fell asleep. Before he fell asleep, he said something that truly sparked fear in every inch of my body.  
_"I know you're like me."_ He said. I was silent for the third time in my life.

I slept on the couch that night. We still lived together, but I rarely saw him. One of us would sleep on the couch. We would eat at different times. We would go to work at the same time, but never spoke more than exchanging greetings.  
Stress piled up and we both began to miss sleep. Yunho began to smell more like cigarettes and eventually the smell overtook the apartment.  
Eventually I caved in. I craved his touch for a reason I believe was instinct. I finally confessed to him that I was like him. We decided not to lie to each other anymore. We took off our masks. It was much easier to live that way.  
We would take off our masks at home and put them on for work. No one seemed to know we were closer than office acquaintances, but I'm sure plenty of them had seen us leave the bathroom together.

That became apparent to me when a male colleague had began getting close to Yunho. Yunho was oblivious of this mans intent. One thing I'd learned about Yunho was that he trusted very easily. Something I lacked. I did not trust humans, I did not see the good in them, but Yunho saw them as harmless.  
His trust is what killed him.  
Yunho acted out of character suddenly. He began to drink occasionally, something I'd never seen him do. He laughed more often, something he did when his mask was on. He was lying to me once again. When I asked him, he brushed me off. Something he also never did. He became distrustful of me.  
He no longer wanted to touch me. He no longer wanted me to touch him. We would sleep in the same bed, but we no longer went passed anything than holding each other. Not sexually of course.

I suddenly felt fear when I saw Yunho cry for the first time. His face was expressionless, yet tears ran down his cheeks like a river. I did not know what to do. He did not want me to console him like humans do. He simply asked for me to turn away.  
And so I did.  
He explained to me that it was "out of stress". He was simply stressed with the work load at the office. But he stuttered when he said it. He was lying through his tears.  
So, like I did to Jongho, I grilled him. I did not receive the same reaction I had with Jongho. Instead, after just a few questions, Yunho confessed to me something that filled me with more anger than I had ever felt.

I finally understood how Wooyoung felt. It reminded me of what I felt when Mingi confessed something similar to me.  
The man at the office was not just making advances at Yunho. He was taking his chances as well. Yunho explained he told no one because he believed it was a trivial matter. He was stressed because he didn't understand whether it was or not. He didn't understand how he should feel about it. He knew it made him uncomfortable, yet he felt no anger nor sadness about the situation. He simply felt fear. Fear that was strong enough to keep his mouth closed.  
So he allowed it to continue.  
I did not know what to do. I did not know whether I should tell anyone. I began to keep a close eye on Yunho. Whenever he went out for smoke breaks, I followed. No one else followed and I made sure of it. Whenever he had a break to go to the bathroom or anywhere else, I followed. I felt some sort of possessiveness over Yunho.  
Something I'd never felt before. Yunho was like me. He wasn't like anyone else. That made me feel something. That made me feel a connection and I couldn't let anything cut that connection, no matter what.

Everytime anyone would walk by our booths in the office, I would feel a sense of anxiety and disgust. My hatred for humans was amplified. I could trust no one and I had to make sure Yunho trusted no one as well.  
To me, humans were just parasites that leached off of others for their own pleasure. They listened only to instinct in a world that shunned instinct, and so they let out that instinct in the most disturbing and secretive ways at the expense of others.  
Yunho still did not want me any closer to him than simple cuddling, but I had no problem with that. Physical touch had began to give me a sense of peace. Not just anyone's touch, it was Yunho's. Because he was like me. He was the only one I could trust.

Another year passed and Yunho began to act normal again, though he was still a bit on edge. He still denied my touch and still acted fake.  
I made the mistake of letting my guard down again at work. I no longer watched him as closely and it completely backfired. That's when he was completely ripped away from me.  
I came home to a letter on my bed. It was short and simple.

_"I don't think I should be here anymore. Anywhere as a matter of fact. I cannot stop what is happening to me. I would like to have control over one thing, so I will control my own life. You gave me insurmountable happiness where I thought I could only feel a little. Take care of yourself, Hongjoong."_

_-_ _**Yunho** _

Everything I found comfort in had been stolen from me in one night. I was not filled with anger. I was not full of fear. I was filled with a sense of disgust and a humanly amount of grief.  
I cried harder than I'd ever cried before. Without faking. I was so disgusted in humanity. I was so disappointed in myself. I was devastated. I felt like a child having a fit. I regretted everything I had ever done. Everything had collapsed in front of me. I had loved for the first time and it was taken away in the most humanly manner.

I vowed to never fall in love again.


	7. Greed

Mine has been a life of shame.

After what happened to Yunho, I quit my job at the office. I focused on my website and fell back into drinking. I have found that I am unfortunately human. I am not a normal human, however. I am humanity's most sinful aspects personified.  
I am lustful, I am greedy and possessive; I am anger, I am sadness. I am instinctual and I am manipulative. I am not a normal human. I am more human than ever. I am what humans hate within themselves.  
I am what I hate within humans.

Humans believe they are extremely complex. They believe they are the most evolved species on the planet, but we are still simply animals. The mind can be broken up into three simple categories. The Id, the Super-ego, and the Ego.  
See how easily the human brain can be classified into three simple parts? One is instinct, one is flimsy morality, and the other the realism. I've learned that the Id is the strongest of all and the super-ego is the weakest of all. Humans have almost no morality and are all instinct, hiding behind the ego.  
I have only ever met one man with a stronger super-ego than normal. The one man I believe I could have loved had I been able to. Park Seonghwa. Instinct did not hinder him. Ego did not cloud his vision.  
He was least human of every human I had ever met. Where I believed I was an alien for not being human, I believe Seonghwa was an angel rather than human.

That is why I will be addressing this last entry to him. This is a letter for the angelic Park Seonghwa, the least human of them all.

Despite everything in my life going fairly well, I cannot live anymore. I crave to take control the way Yunho did, and so tonight after I send this to you, Seonghwa, I will take the reigns and crash the carriage.  
I am at a loss of words as of now. I have no legacy to leave behind, no one to leave it behind for. Therefore, my mind is blank. For the fourth time in my life, I am silent.  
I wonder what it would have been like had you not moved away. Perhaps I could have stayed with you. Perhaps I could have learned to love you. Perhaps I could have, for once, been happy.  
Or perhaps you would have been taken away from me in a cruel manner like the rest. It seems that I only bring suffering to those around me and you're the last one I would wish to bring it to.  
Perhaps you're lucky for having left. The one that got away.

Do you ever wonder what it would have been like if I were normal? Do even remember me at all? It was so long ago, was it not? It feels like decades. I wish I'd kept my promise and visited you. I wonder what would have happened then. Would we still be together? Even as friends?  
That I don't know, and I don't believe you have the answer either.  
I don't know what you will do once this notebook is in your possession, but it's your choice. You may read it, you may throw it away without even opening it, it is up to you.

Seonghwa, you were the most beautiful aspects of humanity compiled. You made me comfortable in a world where I was not welcome. You made me believe I could love.  
Thank you, Seonghwa.

Goodbye.  



	8. Epilogue - Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/1mfEmui70ow

I've no idea how you could have gotten my address, Hongjoong. After we fell off those many years ago, I believed you'd forgotten about me. After reading your notes, I wanted to write a letter to you. I know you can't read it and I know you don't believe in the afterlife, but maybe it will reach you somehow.

I feel that if I think about it hard enough, I can be back there with you. In my room after school, studying and speaking nonsense to each other. Kissing your lips and loving you. Though you could not return my feelings, I wanted nothing but to give you mine. I felt nothing but love from you. I knew that you wanted to love and I wanted to give you the chance. I wanted to teach you how.

I just wish that we had more time. If you were like the rest, I don't know if I would have loved you. I loved your mind and I loved the way you thought. You were unbiased. You looked at the world in a different way than I. You looked from a perspective I never could no matter how hard I tried.

That's why I loved you. Normality is not what I've ever wanted. Humanity is not what I've ever looked for in a person. If we could go back and I stayed, I know we could have gone far. I wish I could have had longer to love you.

I want nothing more than to go back in time and hold you once more. If I'd stayed, none of this would have happened.

I am more in love with you now than ever, but I'm too late. All I have now are your ashes. But I want you. I only want you. I want to see your face once again and I want to hear your voice. I want to follow you to wherever you've disappeared to, but I know that I can't. I have to live. I must stay here. I'll stay here for you and I will share your story.

The story of the only man I could ever love, even if he could not love me back.

Hongjoong, it may not mean anything, but I will live for you. A day will never go by without your voice playing in my ears. Without you within my heart. You will always be there, because that's where you belong. 

I love you, Kim Hongjoong.

Rest easy, my love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas let's go home

**Author's Note:**

> https://youtu.be/3k0GViGXM_E


End file.
